


Once a Jedi...

by Elendiliel



Series: Lightning Strikes [24]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Planet Kef Bir | Ocean Moon of Endor (Star Wars), Pre-Battle of Endor (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendiliel/pseuds/Elendiliel
Summary: Jedi Knight and rebel Helli Abbasa is finishing off a survey of one of Endor's moons (well, more of a survey of a survey) when her path intersects with that of someone she never expected to see again, let alone find herself helping. But as she and her padawan well know, life is full of surprises - and chances to aid those in need should always be taken. They can lead anywhere.
Series: Lightning Strikes [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087898





	Once a Jedi...

**Author's Note:**

> Chronology: a few months before the Battle of Endor, probably. I'm not too sure of the precise timing.

Helli knew she had to help the woman as soon as she saw her. It wasn’t a difficult deduction; the slender black-clad figure was running from a detachment of stormtroopers, and about to run _into_ another. She was fast, abnormally so, but clearly already injured. Helli’s compassionate heart, still wide open even after all these years, would have prompted her to intervene even had her Force-instincts not been screaming at her. They were also telling her that this was an open-carry situation. Accordingly, as she raced towards the soldiers’ prey now standing at bay in this cover-free stretch of grassland, she drew her lightsabre and prepared to ignite it.

So did the other woman. A more cautious person might have thought twice about the wisdom of a Jedi helping someone who carried _that_ type of sabre. But the time for caution had passed. Even an Inquisitor deserved Helli’s aid, and she was being _chased_ by stormtroopers. Not clones; she had heard about Padawan Barr’s stunt on Mon Cala, activating the anti-Jedi programming of a group of Purge Troopers and turning them against their commanders. Standard stormtroopers, their conditioning purely psychological. That meant that this wasn’t about what the woman _was_ ; it was about something she’d _done_. Which boded well, in the circumstances.

These thoughts were a thin layer of rationality on top of the ocean of instincts, training, Force-gifts and straight adrenaline that still too often constituted Helli’s mind in combat. She and the woman were back to back now, blue-green and red sabres blurs in the air, deflecting laser fire from both contingents of soldiers. Helli could only spare a little regret for the mess she was making of the ground around them. Grass grows back. People don’t, if too badly damaged.

“I don’t need your help!” Well, she had hardly expected gratitude from a Dark Sider.

“Interesting hypothesis. Care to show me your data?” She’d been around Zatt too long, perhaps. Then the small part of her conscious brain that still had memory access and could use it found the file on this woman. Interesting indeed… “Third Sister.”

“How do you know my name? And who _are_ you?” Of course. She wouldn’t know Helli, even without the new colouring (golden hair, storm-grey eyes, fair skin), but Helli knew her. Briefly, but almost too well.

“In reverse order, Helli Abbasa, and we met once, nearly twenty years ago, though you don’t remember. One of your traps caught my padawan and me on Garel. We got out, and had to erase your memories of us, for which I apologise.”

“Abbasa of Lightning Squadron? I should have guessed. And don’t apologise. In your position, I would have killed you.” It was a statement of fact. No remorse, but no gloating either. Grounds for optimism.

“You tried. So have a lot of people, including this mob, and yet – still here. And I think we should be elsewhere as fast as possible, don’t you?” A gap had opened up in the ring of stormtroopers. Third Sister didn’t reply verbally, but reached for Helli’s left hand with her right, both women still deflecting blaster fire one-handed as they made for the opening, reaching it just in time and heading for the cover of what passed on Kef Bir for a forest.

By the sounds of it, the stormtroopers had taken too long to realise that they were only shooting at each other. Strategically, that was good, although Helli regretted the probable waste of life. She and Third Sister sheathed their tell-tale sabres as soon as they were out of blaster range, but kept hold of them, aware that the soldiers would be after them too soon for comfort. Third Sister had dropped Helli’s hand as though it were burning hot the moment they were temporarily clear, but kept pace with the Jedi, almost making it look effortless. Almost. Helli slowed as much as she dared, remembering that the Inquisitor tired fractionally faster than she did, or had done at their previous meeting. She had also seen that the woman was limping, and had been chased some distance by her pursuers, and she herself had had a long day.

Her consideration did not go unnoticed, unfortunately. “I can keep up. I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity. It’s common decency. You’re hurt, and I’m tired.”

“I’m _fine_!” Helli heard that tone often. Usually from Petro, her senior apprentice. He was just as convincing.

“No, you’re not. Left leg and right arm, I’d say. Even if I couldn’t sense them, you were favouring the other limbs too much earlier.”

“One -,” she used a word that, from one of her padawans, would have caused Helli to snap, “Language!”, “managed a lucky shot earlier. It’s just a scratch. Pain is _nothing_.” Helli had thought like that, once. She knew better now.

“Pain is your body’s way of telling your mind that something’s wrong. And it’s not your arm that concerns me.” As though talking about the (ex?)Inquisitor’s injuries had made them worse, her left leg tried to fold underneath her. She steadied herself against a tree for a second, then made as if to keep going, but Helli wasn’t having any of it.

“Don’t be daft. If you carry on like this, you’ll make things worse, fast. You’ll never make it to safety at this rate, and nor will I if I carry you. I’m not quite as young as I was.” She remembered how surprisingly heavy the woman had been on their earlier encounter.

“Leave me, then. There’s no reason for both of us to die.” Cold rationality, but there might be a hint of warmth in it.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve been right in this conversation. But I’m still not leaving you.” Helli activated her commlink and called her partner, whom she knew to be at their rendezvous point already. “T5, this is L1. I’m headed your way, but I have a casualty in tow and STs on our tail, and we need a ride. Probably a distraction, too.” She could hear the stormtroopers getting closer.

“Copy that, L1. Stand by.” Helli translated this for Third Sister, who clearly didn’t understand Shyriiwook. They could both see the soldiers now. Helli reignited her sabre and took up a guarding position; Third Sister propped herself against a tree and, the pain it caused her apparent only to Helli, did the same, using only her right arm. They waited for the deadly dance to recommence.

It never did. The distraction arrived first. A stampede of shallowbucks between hunters and prey, moving too fast for the former to hit any of the animals, let alone kill, but buying time for the latter’s ride to reach them.

 _You beauty, Gungi_ , Helli thought as a wild orbak stopped in front of her, knelt and waited for them to mount up. No saddle, but that wouldn’t be a problem.

Third Sister looked dubious. “This is our ride?”

“It is, if I know my apprentice. Which I do. Now _come on_. The stormtroopers won’t be distracted forever.” Helli lifted her new ally onto the beast’s back, then scrambled on in front of her, holding on as gently as she dared to the orbak’s mane. Third Sister didn’t show her the same consideration when she wrapped her arms around Helli’s waist, but Helli was careful not to flinch. The orbak stood, turned and lumbered away, accelerating to a gallop at a rate that was just the right side of too fast for its riders after their long and stressful days. (Well, Helli’s had been long, and Third Sister’s presumably stressful. Helli couldn’t make any other judgement just then.)

Before long, they were past the forest and through another patch of grassland that yielded, with startling swiftness, to a beach. The orbak kept going until it reached the entrance to a tide-cut cave in the cliff face that rose up further along the strand. It had been running through the shallows (such as they were on that moon) to hide its tracks – not something an animal on a world with few, if any, major predators, would think to do. If Helli hadn’t known already who was giving this one suggestions, that would have been an obvious clue.

The orbak knelt again while its riders dismounted, then, calmly and unhurriedly, loped off towards ground it found more congenial under-hoof, none the worse for being used as a getaway vehicle. Helli supported Third Sister, ignoring her protests, as they headed into the cave, where, right at the back, Gungi had got a driftwood fire going. After even a brief soaking as the orbak carried them through the waves, that was a welcome sight.

Third Sister made straight for it, pushing Helli away only mildly rudely, but the Jedi had eyes only for her padawan. Gungi was still kneeling by the fire, swaying a little, finishing off his emergency rations. Standing orders: after prolonged, substantial use of the Force, food is essential. And connecting with an entire herd of shallowbucks and an orbak definitely fell into both categories.

He reassured her, between bites of supply bar, that he would be fine in a little while (he knew better than to try to claim that he already _was_ fine), and she agreed with his assessment after making her own. Of all her apprentices, Gungi was the only one she still considered purely her son, not the strange son-brother or daughter-sister hybrid the others had become as they grew up. Wookiees have long lives; Gungi would outlive them all by a few centuries, Maker willing. They also don’t age as fast, physically, although mentally Gungi hadn’t really been a child since the Purge.

He switched his attention from his teacher to her guest, and his fur stood on end. He had seen her sabre, now clipped once more to her belt, and knew what it meant. There was disbelief in his tone as he asked Helli why she had brought an Inquisitor back with her. He didn’t quite ask whether she had taken leave of her senses, but he was definitely considering it, and would have been right to do so.

“She was being chased by stormtroopers. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t just leave her. And she’s hurt.” That, Gungi understood. His Wookiee inheritance might make him a fearsome warrior, but his Jedi heart made him an equally skilled medic. Helli sensed him reaching through the Force for the injured woman, picking up on the blaster burn on her arm that really wasn’t as minor as Third Sister made out, and the damage to her leg. All suspicion melted away as he reached for the first-aid kit, then politely growled, “May I?”

“I don’t speak carpet.” It was automatic rudeness, with no real feeling behind it, and Gungi knew it. He waited patiently for Third Sister to look at him properly, then at Helli. “Your padawan?”

“One of them. I somehow ended up with six at once. This is Gungi. Gungi, this is – look, what’s your real name? I can’t keep calling you “Third Sister”. It’s as bad as calling a clone by his number.”

It took her a moment to remember. How long had it been since she had last used it? Then: “Naidoldar Douzar. Padawan Douzar. My friends called me Nai.”

“Koh-to-ya, Padawan Douzar.” Helli’s grin felt as though it should have separated her jaw from the rest of her skull.

“Koh-to-ya, Lady Abbasa.” It was the precisely correct form of address for a female Jedi Knight. “Master” was more common, especially for a teacher, but technically inaccurate. The use of her old name and the Jedi formalities had started to thaw the ice-woman’s defences. Reading Gungi’s body language and expression, she rolled up her right sleeve to expose the laser wound and let him treat it.

He did so, quickly and efficiently, but above all gently. As he finished tying on the bandage that should hold the bacta he had applied in place, his fingers brushed an old scar a little way above the new injury. From her angle, Helli could just see the question in his eyes.

“One of my first hunts as an Inquisitor.” She was trying not to say what kind of person she had hunted. “Saszalac put up a good fight, but – not quite good enough.” There was no regret in her voice, but no pride, either.

“Ma’ro Saszalac?” Helli’s blood and spine had suddenly frozen.

“You knew her?” So had Nai’s eyes and tone.

“She was one of my best friends when we were padawans. I heard she had fallen to an Inquisitor, but I didn’t know which one.” Helli kept her voice as neutral as she could. It was surprisingly easy.

“Well, now you do.” There was a hint of defeat in Nai’s posture for a few heartbeats, until she looked up and saw that Helli was still smiling. Sadly, now, but still smiling. “You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be? For one thing, it’s not what Ma’ro would want. She was a born diplomat, and even more keen on non-violence than I’ve ever been. Whenever I talk my way out of a situation despite the temptation to use my sabre and hang the consequences, it’s at least partly her memory, her legacy, I’m relying on. She wouldn’t _want_ to be avenged.”

“I remember when I thought like that.” Yielding at last to Gungi’s non-verbal persuasion, Nai unfolded her left leg and allowed him to take a look at the damage there. It turned out to be partly biological and partly mechanical. Her lower leg was cybernetic, expertly made and fitted but poorly maintained. The junction between flesh and metal was a mess, and even Helli’s untutored eye could see that something was wrong with the relative positions of parts of the prosthetic. Both she and her apprentice were paralysed by shock for a moment, until Gungi recovered enough to start doing what little he could for her, cleaning away dried blood and applying pain-relief gel. Bacta near a prosthesis could get nasty.

“Dare I ask?” Helli’s voice was quiet, and didn’t have as much light-heartedness as she wanted.

“Lord Vader said it would make us stronger, less reliant on our flesh, able to cope with any loss. And it forces us to press the attack, rather than favouring defence, as we were originally taught.” Nai’s tone was flat, suppressing pain Helli could barely imagine.

“Anakin did this to you?” Helli was still struggling to mesh the memories of Anakin Skywalker as she had known him with what she had heard and seen of him since the Clone Wars, but she also couldn’t use his new name if it weren’t necessary. Nai looked away and said nothing, but Helli could sense the recollections she had locked away now taking over her mind. Helli clasped her new friend’s hand in both of hers, tears springing to her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” Not about the memories themselves; she hadn’t perpetrated whatever brutality had turned Padawan Douzar into Third Sister. About reawakening them. Nai’s only response was a slight pressure on Helli’s hand.

Gungi had finished fixing Nai’s leg as best he could, but in his expert opinion it needed proper surgical care, probably from AZI, back at base, where they were expected pretty soon. Lightning and Thunder Squadrons had been surveying the Endor system after reports that the Empire had been doing the same. Petro and Katooni were scouting out the forest moon confusingly also called Endor, Zatt and Byph were assessing the metallic moon Alprezar, Fives and Spark were checking the various less habitable moons from their orbits and Ganodi and Torrent were the extraction team for all of them. Helli and Gungi had been assigned to Kef Bir, and found that the Empire had come to the same conclusions they had from others’ data. Not enough metal ores for it to be worth basing any construction project here. The moon’s inhabitants had had a lucky escape. But both the Empire and the Alliance felt that it paid to be thorough.

Which was just as well for Nai. She had mastered herself now, and pulled her hand free of Helli’s, a little more gently than she might have done earlier. Finding out why she was there was on Helli’s priority list, but some way down. Getting back to base was at the top. “You’re right, Gungi. We need to get going.” She switched her comm to the bi-squad frequency and called Ganodi and Torrent. “T4, L2, this is L1 and T5. We’re ready for pickup. We have an injured passenger, so I might need to improvise a bit.”

“What’s new?” It was Torrent’s voice, and it was still so good to hear it. “We’ll be with you as soon as we can.” He cut the connection, and Helli brought her full attention to bear on Nai’s situation.

“Okeyday. The transport we’re using can’t really land here, so we were planning to use ascension cables, but we don’t have any spares, and I don’t think mine will hold both of us.” She chewed her lip for a while.

“I think mine might take two of us.” Gungi was probably right. He was still quite a bit smaller than Helli, and while Nai wasn’t exactly feather-light, she wasn’t made of concrete either. Helli ran the sums in her head, just to be sure.

“It’s worth a try, but it’s risky. Are you sure you want to take that risk?”

“I’m sure.” Of course he was. He didn’t go in for bravado. Helli translated for Nai, who, if she were any judge, would be teaching herself Shyriiwook pretty soon. And had an alternative suggestion, albeit one she was reluctant to put forward.

“My sabre still works. I can fly up there, even in this climate.” Kef Bir was prone to storms, and its upper atmosphere was permanently turbulent. One of the reasons their extraction team couldn’t land.

“Even riskier, and too conspicuous. Let’s keep that for an emergency – if the cable breaks, for instance.” That sounded sensible to everyone. Gungi doused the fire and they made their way outside to wait, Nai leaning on Helli again.

“Thank you,” Nai said in Helli’s ear. The words sounded rusty. “For everything.”

“No problem. I’d do the same for anyone in trouble, and you’re still my sister in the Order. As far as I’m concerned, once a Jedi, always a Jedi.”

**Author's Note:**

> The story continues in "The Inquisitor's Tale" (Part 27 of _Lightning Strikes_ , Part 10 of _Storms and Rebellions_ ).
> 
> I may have taken liberties with Wookiee biology (specifically maturation and ageing); Wookieepedia rather blurs the issue, and I took full advantage.


End file.
